


Out of the Blue

by Qumblebee



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, Nova (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: If You Squint - Freeform, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Injuries, but I mean it's always a little bit gay, i didn't mean for it to come across gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 22:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7072315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qumblebee/pseuds/Qumblebee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's eleven o' clock at night and grounded superhero; Sam Alexander gets a visit from one of his teammates</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of the Blue

**Author's Note:**

> I gotta post this before I never do. Ugh. This took me like three months to write. Not because I had to perfect it, it was just a hassle. I just don't think I'm good at pacing or explaining thing in fiction. Like I write stuff that only makes sense to me, and that can work in some levels of writing, but not when you're telling a story.  
> Any-who, this takes place pretty early in the series, mainly because I started writing it when, like, the third issue came out, and now here we are, so what's said really isn't as relevant as it was when the series began.  
> I'm not at all confident with how this turned out but at the time I felt like the subject matter was something that should've been brought up at some point, but things resolved themselves real nicely, as they should've. So this is pointless. Why am I posting it then? It took me three months, I'm not throwing that away.  
> Also Sam, Miles and Kamala all know each others identities because whoooooops.

"Ugh I told you already, I don't need your help!" Kaelynn was getting more frustrated every time her brother pointed out some minuscule issue with how she had decided to take on her math homework.

"Look Kay, Mom said I have to help you as punishment, I'm not just doing this out of the goodness of my heart," Sam said in reluctance.

The youngest tossed her pencil to the side of her paper, "If anything, you breathing down my neck is only making it _harder_ to concentrate."

"What do you want me to do, close my eyes?" the elder scoffed.

"You say that like its a bad suggestion."

"It is! How am I gonna be able to see where your defective math skills come in if my eyes are closed?"

"Oh!" an offended gasp shot from the girl's small frame, "I'll bet you anything I'm better at math than you! If I need your help _I will ask!_ "

"Alright," Sam scooted his chair from the table and headed in the direction of his room. "Then at least call me when you're done and pray I don't have to re-do your entire paper for you. 

"Yeah, yeah," she growled, trapping her homework under the arms and continuing the work.

It had been almost a month since Sam moved into his new apartment and he the majority of his belongings still remained unboxed, due mainly to how busy he'd been now that there was literally crime around every corner. The time they spent in New York was short, but it didn't take long for him to miss Arizona. It was secluded there, less noisy and it wasn't impossible to fall asleep without the blazing police sirens in the background. But people were getting suspicious of Sam's identity back home and it seemed that every place his mom worked was drawing in villain after villain. Moving to the city placed less of a target on their heads, and he wouldn't have to keep convincing people he wasn't the last member of the Nova Corps. And also he could avoid flying into so many birds on his way to team meetings, which was nice.

Tony was thoughtful enough to set the Alexanders in a roomy apartment at a reasonable price. Problem was there wasn't much of an escape from all the typical hero-ing drama. That was another nice thing about living in the West, he could always come home and take a break for the night (unless of course the problems followed him home, but that's another issue altogether). And to top it off, he was grounded for the week for missing classes, which he promised his mom he wouldn't do. Cliché as it sounds, his mom suggested a fresh start and all. On the bright side, The Avengers were easier to be in touch with, and he was really starting to feel more connecting with his team. Or at least they were becoming less indifferent to his presence.

Sam moved to to the space between his bed and the wall and reached into the stack of boxes. If he couldn't go out he might as well start finally getting settled in. He glanced at his Nova helmet that hung on his bedpost.

A soft tap on his window interrupted his entranced fixation on his post. Furrowing his brow, he tossed the shirts he had been unpacking on the side of his bed. _If this is some major Chitauri conqueror, they've sure gotten a lot more polite since the last time we met._

The window still had yet to be cleaned, and was still a hassle to pull open, like everytime he closed it back up the glue fairy showed up to stick it back together. Finally when it cracked, Sam stuck his torso over the fire escape and looked to left then to the right. As difficult as it was to see considering his only view across from him was a wall, he assumed whomever signaled would be on his fire escape...

"Hello?" Sam asked the wall across from him.

"Sorry, I'm right here."

Sam turned his attention to the lower left wall of the apartment building. Spider-man, now mostly visible despite the equal darkness of his costume and the shadows that draped over the alley. His back was against the wall and legs carelessly sprawled out in front of him on the floor of the platform.

"Wh- what. Miles?" He was pretty taken aback by his appearance. His mom suggested a while back that he and Kamala should come by for dinner maybe a week or two ago, so it wasn't too surprising Miles knew where he lived. Just that he showed up at all, "Why are you here?"

"Thought I'd drop in. Hello." He gave a small half wave.

"Not that I don't appreciate the company, but why the hell are you in costume?" Sam questioned anxiously, "It might be a little strange if anyone sees Spider-man hang out on my fire escape."

"Calm down, calm down," Miles brushed him off. "Camouflage, y'know? I'm not an idiot."

"Okay, well what's up? What exactly brings you to my window?"

"I uh... I need some help with something..." While he shifted his weight to better face his teammate and he let out a repressed hiss.

"You know I'm grounded though," Sam said, absentmindedly swinging his legs through his window sill, "So if you're needing me to be your hit man or something, that's a no-can-do."

"I don't think that'll be a problem... I- I'm sorry to spring this on you... I may or may not have been on the bad end of a tussle..."

That might've explained why he was slouched across the platform's floor in such an awkward position, as well as the strenuous nature of his voice.

"Oh no..." Sam held the bridge of his nose between his fingers, "How bad is it? On a scale from one to ten, one being sprained ankle, ten being impaled by an electric rod?"

The wall crawler huffed, "That's specific... Um, I'm gonna go with seven, hit by a bus..."

"God, you were hit by a bus?" 

"Wh- no, hyperbolically..." A half-repressed groan caused an interruption, followed by a low wheeze from the teen.

"Jeez, you sound like a dying elephant. You aren't being followed, right? I swear to Knowhere, Miles if you brought some anti-establishment terrorist to my apartment-"

"Come on, this isn't my first rodeo, Space Cowboy. I caught the guy, I just didn't get the better end of it," he reassured.

_Why didn't you just go to the hospital?_ Sam almost said out loud, until he realized how stupid he would've sounded. The fact that it takes about five seconds for him to change from hero to civilian by the removal of his helmet made it easier to protect his identity. But helping Miles might complicate things if his mom was let off early to see her reckless son tending to his equally reckless friend. Or... Associate? The two weren't on bad terms at all but they weren't exactly considered pals. At least not from Sam's perspective. Besides the point, he couldn't help but be a little frustrated with his teammate. He could tell Miles noticed by his following statement.

"I-I know coming in without warning is kind of a shitty thing to do.... I mean, you were only a few blocks away..."

"It'll be fine," he sighed and retracted his legs from the openings edge, "I just can't really get blood on the carpet, or my mom will completely kill me."

"Let's see, d'you have a shower curtain or something?" Miles suggested.

"Huh, this really isn't your first rodeo, is it?" Sam smirked.

He shrugged, "You see, I too have a mother that hates when I get blood all over my room. We aren't so different, you and I."

\-------

Sam came back into his room with his arms full with a long shower curtain and a first aid kit. He noticed Miles was resting his forehead on the sill of the window, looking as though he was taking a comfortable nap on the wooden base.

"Rise and shine," He said as he laid out the curtain below his window, "Tell me you didn't die while I was gone."

"What were you doing that you were gone for that long?" Miles asked, moving to rest his chin on the ledge.

Setting the kit down beside his bed Sam scratched the back of his head, "Yeah my sister needed me to quickly look over her math homework."

Now because Miles was in of the light from his bedroom he could see his state a lot more clearly. Any frustration Sam had towards his teammate had all but left completely, and it became clear to him why he turned up so out of the blue. A trail of broken glass ran from his left arm down to his mid back. The shards were lodged deeply in his skin, and by now it was likely his regenerative abilities were already kicking in.

"Are you sure you didn't get hit by a bus? Or, like, twelve buses?"

"Theres always that possibility a few dozen buses snuck up on me," Miles joked tiredly.

Sam assisted him down onto the floor below the window, doing his best to avoid as much mess as feasible. Miles achingly reached to pull off his mask and tossed it beside him, revealing a dried trail of blood from his nose.

"Yikes, y'think it's broken?" Sam asked, shutting his window.

The injured wall crawler adjusting his seated position, "You're gonna have to be more specific." 

Sam unhooked the latches to the first aid kit, "I'm not a nurse, so I'm not gonna pretend like I know exactly what I'm doing. Now tell me about how you managed to screw yourself over this badly."

"Ah that's fair..." he admitted, "I mean it's all over the news. I thought you might've already seen how it went down."

"Grounded, remember?" Sam reminded, "No TV when I'm grounded."

"Hm," he nodded, "Well this lady, I mean she looked like she just clocked out of her medieval waitressing shift. So I guess my biggest failure was underestimating her. But dude, she had a spiked ball and chain- why would anyone still use those, can you even blame me?" He gestured wildly and then winced and held is middle.

"Well you aren't making it easy," Sam narrowed his eyes, "Turn around I'm gonna try to pull this crap out. Continue." He pulled out a pair of tweezers from the first aid kit and began to inspect the damage.

"Uh, so, she was holding up this sorta crummy restaurant, and after I showed up it didn't take long for her to get mad at me... I guess I sort of miscalculated where exactly her blows were gonna land-OUCH!" 

"Keep it down! Kaelynn'll rat me out if she finds out I have friends over." Sam warned.

"Because the two of us are having such a grand old time," the other teen rolled his eyes. 

"And what else happened?" He brought the subject back around.

"Uhm, to sum up, she slammed me the restaurants big glass window, hence all of th-ow!" He winced again as Sam tugged at a shard, "I hit her over the head with a chair and uh... webbed her up..."

"It wasn't over that quickly, was it?"

"No, but all you _really_ need to know is that she's taken care of." 

"Alright, now for the million dollar question," Sam said, knowing the answer despite the fact, "Why didn't you call the other Avengers to help? Or at least to patch you up?" He set the tweezers down and waited his response.

Miles took a moment before answering, "C'mon Alexander, you know why I can't do that..."

"No, I don't." Sam couldn't help but be sort of bitter about how differently the two of them were treated in the field, "One call in for help isn't gonna break your Avengers status."

"So you're saying that's what you'd do? You would call in after getting beat up by a no-name, third rate bad guy?" Miles glanced over his shoulder with narrowed eyes.

"If it's all over the news I'm sure they already know what's happened."

"The only thing they would've seen is me taking her down, so they likely don't think I'm, like, hurt too badly or anything." the injured teen turned away again.

"Dude, you are. This is very concerning."

"So you're saying that's what you'd do," Miles repeated as a statement opposed to a question.

"Its a little different with me." Sam tensed, "I was already kicked off once for _overreacting_ or whatever... I mean they actually like you, they see you as 'one of them'."

Miles gave a harsh scoff, "It's not about being liked or anything, it's about if we're competent enough to be a member of the team. I'm still just a kid in a to them, _we're_ still just kids to them. That's why Kamala wasn't taken seriously when the Vision accused her of the mess, that's why you weren't given a second chance after your outburst, and the same would've happened to me if I had done anything about it. I can't help but feel they don't... I dunno, take us as seriously. I don't like.... I don't like thinking it but it's... It's true."

Sam found it hard to argue with Miles' words. As much as he loved being an Avenger, it was always like walking on eggshells. And although he and Kamala were still working things out, it was comforting to have someone to relate to in the sense that they both knew how dangerous it could be to make a mistake. Sam just kind of assumed Miles had been above all that.

"Yeah. I get what you're saying." Sam sighed while pulling out another shard being sure not to let it break. "It never really occurred to me that you worried about this kind of stuff."

Desperately not wanting things to become awkward after what had just been said, and to keep Miles' mind off of the glass cemented in his skin, Sam tried his best to keep the conversation going.

"It's uh, it's a good thing these shards aren't any smaller," the black haired teen commented stiffly, "It'd be really difficult to pull them out." 

"'S good to hear, I mean I tried to fall into the window as conveniently as possible," Miles said sorely.

_Great job._

" Well you're almost set," assured Sam, setting the tweezers down and pulled out gauze from inside the first aid kit, "I dunno if this'll be enough, but..."

"I've still got webbing," he offered.

Sam pouted, "Is that safe to put in an open wound?"

"I'm sure it's fine," didn't sound too convincing, "I've done it before, and so far infections have been distinctly... minor...."

"Oh my god, what do you usually do when you're injured like this?"

"Pray I survive."

"Jeez. I'm gonna disinfect this mess first, and I guess use your weird spider-fluid t-..."

The teen groaned angrily, "Ngh, can't we just skip that part? The disinfecting part. That shit stings, man."

"Sure," said Sam, coming across as passive aggressive as possible, "If you'd rather have your entire back rot instead of letting me clean it up?"

"Absolutely."

"Shut up. Weren't you the one bragging about how you once clocked Dr. Doom I'm the face? If you can manage that, you can manage a this," he said.

Miles closed his eyes sighed in reluctance, "Fine."

It was painstakingly quiet with few words exchanged as Sam cleaned up the blood that ran across his teammate's back. After a few failed attempts at repressing frustrated cries of pain, Sam gave Miles a pillow from his bed to muffle any unkind exclamations.

By the time he was done tending to the wounds Miles appeared to be at best, half conscious. "It's over. You holding up ok?" _Stupid question_

He gave no response other than a thumbs up. It looked like he was on the brink of vomiting.

"Thanks... n'... sorry 'bout th'mess," he slurred, running the back of his hand over his eyes, "I, uh... 'm better go though. Parents'll worry."

As he moved to stand, Sam put his hand on his shoulder "Let yourself cool down a sec," he said meaning both mental and physically, because he was defiantly running a fever at this point, "I can give you a lift t-..."

Sam heard the front door slam shut.

"Ah shit," Sam swore and immediately went to assist Miles to his bed.

"Calm down dude, what are you doing? Your mom knows you're Nova-..."

"Be quiet!" He said in a stern whisper.

Miles' eyes widened to an offended expression. Sam had to essentially drag his teammate onto the surface of his sheets.

"Stay there, and stay quiet." he scolded. 

Miles did nothing but snort in response, with his eyes fixed on the white ceiling.

About to leave his room, Sam realized his shirt and arms were splattered with red. As his looked for some sort of sweatshirt he could hear is mothers footsteps pace around the kitchen. He searched for one of his hoodies laying absently on a cardboard box.

"Kay, what are you still doing up?" Eva's voice managed to meet Sam's ears from his bedroom.

"Ah! Look at the time," said Kaelynn. "I guess Sam forgot to tuck me in."

_Ugghh, Kaelynn I'm gonna...._ zipping it up over his T in caution of visible blood stains.

His mom was headed in his direction, "You're not free from guilt, Kay, you should know better by now. Sam? You're still here, aren't you...?" Eva met her son as he was closing his door as gently as possible, "Oh, good."

"Hey ma, how was work?" He asked heatedly, trying to divert attention from of himself.

"It's almost 11:30, Sam. Why didn't you put Kaelynn to bed two hours ago?"

Before he could open his mouth to voice an excuse, his mother's eyes narrowed, "What's with the face? What's in your room?"

It took Sam a moment to notice he was standing very suspiciously against his door, both hands behind his back, holding the knob. His face also contorted to one of deep concern.

"Nothing." his voice cracked painfully.

Eva rubbed her temples in frustration, "Sam Alexander, I do not have time for this is. I was called in an extra hour, I'm tired and I'm stressed and whatever it is it behind that door will keep me up tonight. What is in your room?"

"I guarantee whatever it is, is only going to stress you out more. Trust me mom, I've got everything under control!"

"I'm not going to argue with you about this, you're already grounded. The last thing you should be doing is playing a rebellious schtick." She took a step forward. "I won't ask again."

 

Cautiously she twisted the doorknob to her son's bedroom and peaked her head through the opening. She didn't move or say anything for an excruciatingly long ten seconds.

\--

The sound of his bedroom door shut, followed by his mothers weary tone, "I've got a few questions, Sam."

"I can explain." He avoided her eyes.

"Then explain. Please explain why you've made a murder scene of your bedroom instead of taking your friend to an actual hospital!" Her voice was hushed while still a remaining heir of ferocity

"Mom, it's not that simple... He can't just show up to the hospital dressed as some famous vigilante. His fall was all over the news! Doctors can put two and two together." Sam finished as a matter of factly.

She put her hand over her eyes and took a deep breath, "You realize you aren't quite suitable to do a job like this, right?"

"This is why I didn't what you to see. I was just about to give him a ride home, he's fine! M-mostly fine. Better than he was when he arrived." Sam argued, "Mom, if you're worried he's gonna die our apartment I can almost guarantee I wouldn't let that happen."

"Nothing about this scene gives me the impression that he's fine," she glanced out of ther corner of her eye towards his door. "He has that zapp-y power right? But he won't freak out and zap me if I startle him?"

"Er... Probably not..."

His mom paused in contemplation for a moment.

"... I'd prefer you not risk anything else tonight by taking him home. So we're going to need to call his parents." She concluded. "Do they know about this, uh, hobby of his?"

Sam scratched the back of his head, "I actually don't know. I'd guess the answer'd be no if he didn't just go straight home."

Her expression softened a bit and she gestured to her son's door, "When I said I wanted you to make new friends here, this isn't quite what I had in mind."

In spite of himself he chuckled at her comment.

"'Guess I'll get you set up on the couch," Eva put her hand on her son's shoulder and flicked her head indicating to his room, "You ask about his number and double check to make sure he isn't dead."

"Thanks for being understanding, mom." He offered an apologetic smile.

She pulled him into a hug and kissed him in the forehead, "I gotta be with you, don't I?"

Sam shrugged and stepped out if the way to let his mom get to the cupboard across the hallway. Widening the door and stepping into his room, a flood of aggravation overcame him.

He rubbed his eyes and groaned in frustration. His bed sheets were hastily pulled up to the top of the frame, leaving it empty. The shower curtain below the window was in a sloppy heap as if it were half folded, supplies were placed back in the first aid kit in an attempt to clean up the scene. The room was still a bloody mess, but it looked as though this was the supposed to be Miles' final thanks-for-not-letting-me-bleed-out-on-your-floor statement.

Sam stuck his head through the window, looking for any kind of signal about wether or not his teammate would be capable of making it home. Nothing arachnid-related caught his attention.

"Jeez..." his head backtracked through the window and he pulled down the top sill. 

Beside his frame shot a brief buzz from his phone, on the cabinet where he left it.

thanks pal and sorry bout the mess. iou one

I offered this stupid jerk a ride. The teen thought bitterly. He leaned is head back to his wall and looked up towards the ceiling. He took a moment before responding to Miles to him know he wouldn't discharge this debt lightly.


End file.
